The Rise of Agachak, Grolim Hierarch of Rak Urga
by wolfram uth ironknight
Summary: new story from the point of view of Tolnedrans, more specifically Ranites. Confused by the title? read and find out. secretive and revealing plot. got big plans for this one. a must read
1. Prologue

From the pen of King Anheg of Cherek

In the years following the meeting in Korim, the western kingdoms prospered. The lineage of Riva was restored and the Bear Cult was still in collective apoplexy due to his Tolnedran wife. Belar help them if they find out she's part dryad. Life was generally good, and with no pressing reason the companions parted. Silk and that Nadrak pirate Yarblek were robbing the Malloreans blind – not that I'm complaining. Yarblek is the first Angarak I have ever met that I haven't wanted to stick an axe in, and the misfortune of the Malloreans is always good news. My cousin has stayed here in Val Alorn with his family until recently when they went back to Trellheim, so thinks are quiet.

Relg and his fertility machine of a wife, Taiba continue to single handedly repopulate a nation, and at this rate I might just live long enough to see it happen. Belgarion continues to father children, a stark change to the many years before Geran was born. The poor boy is up to his ears in daughters, all of whom love to pull "uncle" Anheg's beard, something Barak should be able to relate to.

With Eriond's ascension to God hood, the Angaraks have been giving us little trouble. I met with Zakath at Mal Zeth last spring, and I actually liked the man. Things aren't all smooth sailing however the Grolim Hierarch at Rak Urga Agachak seems to have united the remaining church of Torak somewhere in Cthol Murgos, and Zakath hasn't been able to locate his stronghold. Ugrit has been co-operating, and it seems the little thief is intent on saving the Murgo race from extinction at Mallorean hands. Agachak can't run forever. Perhaps Belgarion might look into the matter personally.

It seems that I have witnessed all the adventure my life will allow me to enjoy, and I don't regret it one bit. I saw the prophesy fulfilled. These are truly the days to be alive.


	2. Chapter 1

Snow drifted down softly in the small hours of the morning, blanketing Tol Rane is a light cover of snow as the grey, lifeless clouds still pale in the morning light drifted over the mountains to unload their cargo on the seat of one of Tolnedra's more minor families. So extensive was this mountain range that it ran north, into Ulgoland, home of the cave dwelling worshipers of UL. Not much was know about this strange people, though since the crowning of King Belgarion of Riva, the secluded society had begun to emerge and mingle with the rest of the Western Kingdoms. As far as most Tolnedran's knew, Belgarion was not from any major family or dynasty like the prestigious Emperors of their fair lands; instead he came from a remote district in Sendaria where he used to wash dishes for a living, but that, however, was Alorn business. The only shame was this scullion boy took an Imperial Princess, and only daughter of Ran Borune XXIII, the late emperor of all Tolnedra, to wife. A Borune she may have been, but an Imperial Princess none the less.

To the east the mighty peaks stretched deep into Cthol Murgos, raising high above the Southern Caravan Route, a brief reprieve from the cold ice and stone of the range, which allowed trade between the east and the west, since the only other highway ran through Drasnia to Gar og Nadrak. This route to the Angarak kingdoms brought much wealth to Tolnedra, but unfortunately the Ranites saw very little of it. The latest and current Borune Dynasty, or perhaps now the Anadile Dynasty, had redirected Tolnedra's interests until it continently favoured Borune interests, undoing a lot of the obvious good done by previous Ranite rulers, and in particular Ran Rane II who manages to overcome what was to be known latter as the curse of the Ranites, more specifically no Ranite Emperor has lived past the age of twenty-five, while Ran Rane II made it to a staggering forty-two before the affliction claimed the flower of all Tolnedran Emperors.

Ran Rane II established extensive trade with the eastern kingdoms, despite the predictable tantrums of the Alorns, and these relations benefited the Ranites greatly. In fact one narrow minded Honeth remarked sourly, "You can't look anywhere anymore without seeing a Murgo", clearly without seeing the obvious benefits of this very profitable situation.

So it was a morning just like so many others before it, the sun rose on Tol Rane and a small stone house in the western districts. The house wasn't ornate and from the outside, it appeared to be quite plain and practical, rather than comfortable and luxurious. In all a few rooms with the essentials, and a small well groomed garden that showed signs of recent care. However there was a single wall tapestry in the sitting room, woven from Mallorean silk, which identified that the owner was also a member of the house of Rane.

Everywhere along the street merchants could be seen setting up their stalls for a frantic day of trading. Other more lazy, and therefore less profitable sons of Nedra were either just stirring or had pulled the covers up over their heads to block out the penetrating glare of dawn. The small house, however, was already empty, its beds were made and the breakfast dishes had already been cleaned. Its sole occupant had been up for hours and was already at the barracks of the 9th Imperial Legion, rousing his troops. The 9th Legion was one of the many legions based in Tol Rane, but this body was the personal troops of Grand Duke Palkin, head of the Ranite family, and so all of the Legion Commanders, Captains and Sargents were Ranites. The Grand Duke wanted to be able to depend on the loyalty of these troops; his life may well depend on it some day.

"Fall in, fall in or it'll be your heads that roll, not mine. You lot can be sure of that" bellowed Sargent Torin. Torin hated having to rouse the unit, and each morning became more like a chore for him. Torin didn't understand why they couldn't just get up in the morning. Once they got going, had something to eat and had gone through their weapons drills, they were a good bunch of soldiers, no commander could ask any more than what this unit gave everyday, they just seemed totally perplexed by the concept of putting one foot, closely followed by another, on the ground and getting up when the sun did. Torin shook his head in disbelief. He just didn't understand.

"All right, to the mess hall you ravenous dogs. I just hope Tolnedra didn't need you this morning, because I don't think Grand Duke Palkin will accept a note from your mothers." With that Torin span on his heels and walked away knowing that come tomorrow morning, he would have to go through all of this again.

"_Besides"_ he thought to himself as he crossed the grounds towards the administration complex, _"it's about time I reported to my Captain"_.

Captain Andorias "Falco" was a slightly taller man than Torin, but not as bulky and his face was pock marked and long. He earned his nickname Falco because of his hooked beak of a nose.

"All in all a face only a mother could love" remarked Torin to himself as he came into the presence of his commander. Torin never stopped being shocked by Falco's appearance, and every time he caught himself thinking that it really wasn't that bad, these early morning procedures were a constant reminder that it really was that bad. Falco was, after all, very ugly. A good person, and excellent soldier and a loyal friend, but still very, very ugly.

"Maybe that's why he joined the legions" Torin mused, not being able to think of any jobs Falco could have been assigned by his cousin, twice removed, the Grand Duke. All members of the Ranite family got positions in Ranite administration, and should Grand Duke Palkin, or any of his successors claim the throne it would be a great day for Ranites everywhere. A weary look swept over Falco's face when Torin entered.

"Still not getting enough sleep my friend?" Torin enquired sympathetically.

"I think running over the border to Maragor and going completely insane would be preferable to showing up here every morning. Pity the ghosts left eh?"

"I don't think they left. The monks at Mar Terrin still insist the ghosts still wander, they just don't attack us unless directed to by Mara." corrected Torin.

"How can a man command ghosts? Stupid theory if you ask me." Falco countered.

"He claims to be a God, the lost God of the Marags, and now that the Marags have reappeared this man claims to be their God."

"You don't honestly believe that do you? Falco asked, shocked at the suggestion.

"Maybe. I don't know, sometimes I think that we Tolnedra can be too skeptical at time. I mean we believe in Nedra, and that he plays a role in our life and society."

"But that's different" Falco floundered.

"Oh, oh that's different. Why didn't you say so?" Torin smirked with a twinkle in his eye. Torin had been laughing at the older Falco for years, since Torin was a cheeky five-year-old and Falco an already mature seventeen. Torin recalled one morning in the snow when Falco in an irrepressible burst of adolescence and a desire to impress the local beauty queen of their neighborhood, drove his sled right into a snow drift, in an attempt to vault over it. The truly funny thing, and whenever Torin though of his friend's embarrassing childhood folly, he still laughed a little, was that the snow drift was actually a large rock that had been covered in the previous night's snow fall. There was broken pride, body and sled everywhere.

"I just did. Did you notice? I thought I noticed you noticing" Falco replied, returning the infectious twinkle, unaware that Torin's mind had wandered off. It was only when Torin burst out laughing that Falco gave him a reproachful glare and turned the conversation to more important maters. Falco cleared his throat "Hmmmmm."

"You were saying Commander" Torin said, choking down his obvious pleasure in his own cleverness or perhaps his own foolishness.

"Yes well it is a damn pity that for what ever reason …" Falco looked at Torin's amused expression. "…for what ever reason the ghosts aren't driving people insane anymore, because now we have a problem. Yesterday we got word from the Imperial Palace in Tol Honeth that treasure hunters have figured out that it is safe to return to Maragor and all that free gold that originally led the problem in the first place. Damn Vorduvians."

Falco was referring to the most terrible example of greed over coming sensible thinking in the history of the world. In 2115 Ran Vordue I bowed under pressure from his countrymen to invade and put to the sword all Marags, exterminating the race bar a few thousand sold to Nyissian slavers. Forever Tolnedrans everywhere remember with regret their national folly. A monastry was established at Mar Terrin to comfort the spirits of the fallen Marags, denied the eternal slumber by the nature of their cruel deaths and Mara's grief. However now that the Marags have been restored to Mara, the ghosts no longer sought to revenge themselves upon the living that foolishly violated their border.

"So now foolhardy adventurers are heading for those gold filled stream beds in droves, completely forgetting the lessons hard learnt by our forefathers."

"Those idiots" exclaimed Torin. Torin did not suffer fools gladly, and like most battle hardened Sargents, Torin being a veteran of Thull Mardu, could not abide any form of idiocy.

"And if that wasn't bad enough a professional bandit from the north has set up camp near the center of Maragor, where most of the gold is, and is controlling the area like a warlord state. The Ulgo in charge of the fledgling Marags…"

"Relg I think his name is sir" inserted Torin. Falco and Torin had an efficient relationship where Falco outranked Torin by technicality only.

"Whatever, I don't care. This Ulgo, fine Relg" snapped Falco seeing Torin about to interject again "has lodged a complaint with King Belgarion, so Belgarion came to Tol Honeth personally and now his royal Andile-ness has decided that we were to blaim, being the closest city to Maragor, and if we don't clear it up, Belgarion might pay us a visit personally."

Torin shuddered when he thought of King Belgarion, Overlord of the West and Slayer of Kal Torak God and King of the Angaraks, angry with him; his flaming sword drawn. Of course Torin was skeptical of Belgarion's powers, and even of Kal Torak's existence, but after witnessing some of the strange phenomena at Thull Mardu, he couldn't be sure what he believed.

"So what are we going to do about it?" he asked, although Falco's face clearly betrayed his lack of orders.

"Grand Duke Palkin has decided to dispatch the 9th Legion to deal with the situation, but apart from that…" Falco shrugged and spread his hands with a wry look on his face.

"The Legion Commander not being very forth coming with details is he?" sympathized Torin. Torin was quite convinced that if he had to deal with that popinjay pretending to be a real man on a regular basis he would have gone mad, ghosts or no ghosts. Commander Septon rarely wore armour, preferring to dress in his foppish mantle, flogging his position as the Grand Duke's brother in front of any fool that would lap it up. Unfortunately his position in the family would allow him no lower rank. The real orders came from his adviser Mortin. However Mortin was a Borune. Torin had as much respect for the Borunes as any Tolnedran could have for another family, but he thought it pathetic that the military pride of the Ranites couldn't be commanded by a competent Ranite General. _"Falco could do a good job",_ mused Torin, but the man didn't handle stress well and he was too far removed from the Grand Duke to gain such a sought after position.

"Yes I have a meeting of the general staff later today. Septon, the other Captains and various other officials, so on and so forth. I should know more after that."

"Sounds very interesting" replied Torin sarcastically, as he lent against the wall fingering his dagger.

"Doesn't it? Would you like to come?"

"Oh I'm sorry sir, I'd love to but I'm busy drilling the men this afternoon." Torin always enjoyed these little games with Falco, mainly because he won most of the time, and the grin on his face displayed his mirth openly. Falco's face too began to smile.

"That's alright soldier. I'll dispatch someone to assume your duties temporarily."

"But this meeting is for the general staff only sir, of which I am not apart." Torin thought he had his old friend here and he watched intently for the signs of frustration, which should be arriving any second now, to appear on his friends face.

"It's overlookable this time Torin. My clerk isn't well today, so you can scribe for me"

"You wouldn't"

"Try me"

"Please?" in a last ditch effort, Torin wheedled with his friend, desperate not to sit through a very long and boring meeting.

"That's an order Sargent" Falco gloated trying to conceal his obvious glee at finally defeating his opponent.

"Now that's cheating!" Torin exclaimed.

"What? Cheating? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about friend" Falco said with an overdose of feigned innocence. Falco wasn't a very talented actor; by he enjoyed these little games almost as much as Torin did. He would probably enjoy them even more if he won more often.

"You are dismissed" Falco said, and with that he immersed himself in some paper work, only lifting his eyes once to stare with satisfaction at Torin's retreating back, grumbling loudly as he left Falco's office


	3. Chapter 2

The meeting of the General Staff was a dull event. A large auditorium filled with brutish soldiers, who would far rather face an opponent across a battle field than by a diplomatic resolution, and stuffy scribes who are more occupied with their own status, resulting from whom they served, than accurately taking notes. Although the meeting was already half completed, Legion Commander Septon had yet to make an appearance. Not that this worried any of the other captains – they were used to Septon's absence and were contented to carry on with out him. Probably more so than if he actually attended the staff meetings.

The auditorium was a round building with tiered seating around it's perimeter with exception to the two entrances directly opposite to each other running north to south. The seats extended into the building to create a circle in the centre of the room where the senior officers sat. The front row was reserved for the higher ranking captains and the seats directly behind them for their personal scribes. It was in one of these seats that Falco sat with Torin behind him resenting his friend for inflicting such a chore on him.

Torin sat in his uncomfortable seat diligently taking notes when the double doors on the north wall opened when a fanfare of legionnaires, with burnished breastplates and tall plumes marched in, escorting the Grand Duke's brother to his seat at the head of the table in the middle of the central circle, along with some advisers, scribes and Mortin. Septon was dressed in his usual pale green mantle, and coasted along to his position while the assembly watched on with bated breath. Captain Galkyus, who had the floor, had stopped speaking and stood respectfully until the Commander was seated. Once Septon had settled himself Captain Galkyus looked to Mortin for permission to speak again.

"The Captain has been delivering his report on the current situation in Maragor, my lord." Mortin explained to Septon. "Please continue" he then added to Galkyus.

"As I was saying there is something unusual about these bandits. They appear too organised and too well equipped. I suspect that they are receiving aid from somewhere…"

"Preposterous!" Septon snapped. "They are nothing that a few score rabble picking the stream beds for free gold."

"Begging your pardon, my lord, but I believe that the Captain had the floor" Mortin interjected diplomatically.

"Besides, _commander_" drawled Galkyus mockingly, "They are more than a few score. More like a few hundred, possibly more, and they are well armed and trained."

"Bah, nothing can stand up to the might of a Tolnedran legion. I here by dispatch the 1st division of the 9th Imperial Legion to remove this menace by whatever means necessary."

"My lord!" Galkyus exclaimed. "The meeting of the General Staff is not yet adjourned. No decision can be made until all have said their piece!"

"My brother made me Commander of this Legion, not you Galkyus. The order stands, Mortin dispatch the troops. If Galkyus is so cautious of these peasants than let him command the expedition. Disband the assembly wouldn't you Mortin?" Septon asked, while collecting his mantle and heading for the exit, the clatter of steel against stone as his bodyguards followed him in tight regimental fashion. Once the northern doors were closed once more the assembly erupted with outrage, and it was some time before Mortin managed to quieten them down.

"Are you going to allow this Mortin" demanded Galkyus angrily.

"And what are you proposing I do about it Galkyus. I can't countermand his orders, and even though it doesn't seem like it a lot of the time he _is_ the legion commander. I suggest you all go about your business and carry out your orders."

"That's just not good enough" demanded Galkyus, until Falco stood up and crossed the room to his friend.

"Just let it go Galkyus. It's not worth your career."

"It just infuriates me, that incompetent!" Galkyus growled and stomped out of the auditorium.

"Is he going to be alright?" asked Torin, coming up behind Falco.

"Probably, he just needs to calm down, get some sleep or alternatively get drunk."

"You think so? A man in his state of rage might get himself into some trouble when intoxicated."

"You know I think your right" Falco said, catching on to Torin's plan. "Maybe we should go with him, just to keep him out of trouble?"

"Maybe? How can you say maybe? What kind of friend are you? It is our duty, nay obligation to ensure that nothing foul befalls our comrade"

"Perhaps we should see what we can do about that then, friend" Falco smirked and he and Torin left the auditorium quickly after Galkyus, leaving the remainder of the general assembly to vent their anger to each other.

The only problem with a large quantity of drink is the additional effect the following morning, and the only known cure is more of what caused the problem in the first place. It was with these thoughts in mind that Torin, Falco and Galkyus sat soaking in a bath house, consuming cool ale and hot steam in equal amounts.

"Perhaps I should just stick my sword in Septon, and then they would kill me. Two birds with one stone" groaned Galkyus, as he poured himself some more ale. "Sometimes it hardly seems worthwhile being a legionnaire."

Somewhere towards the other end of the pool, the much hotter end, Falco groaned his agreement.

"If you two are quite finished feeling sorry for your selves you might remember that we, or more specifically Galkyus, has to lodge his battle plan for approvable by this afternoon, ready for deployment in two days." Said Torin calmly, since he had not had nearly as much to drink as the other two the night before, and felt much better in comparison. Falco's head emerged from the water, and he looked Torin in the eye.

"That was rude" he complained

"Can't we leave it til tomorrow or perhaps die" Galkyus added.

"Okay you need to stop speaking about dieing, friend. No body is dieing here"

"Are you sure" Galkyus replied as he hopped out of the hot section of water he was sitting in, ran and dived head on into the freezing water in another pool nearby.

"Besides, he gave us the first division. That's only one hundred men. Also of which you and I are not apart of, I think you'll find" Falco said, standing up so that only his bottom half was emersed in water. That was something Torin hadn't yet realised. He had assumed that he and Falco would be going with Galkyus and the first division, when in reality they only would be if the third division was dispatched also.

"Surely we can do something about that. Speak to Mortin and get the third division attached to the first for this assignment. Surely he will realise that one hundred men is not enough for this task.

"That may work. Galkyus and I will see Morin as soon as possible. He is likely to be busy about now anyways, so we have some time. You get some rest. How many days off do you get anyway?"

"Not many with you as a commander" he smirked. A confused look came over Torin's face. "Busy? Mortin is usually out for his morning exercise about now, and he will be back at his house very soon."

"Did I say Mortin is busy? Oh I'm sorry I meant to say, there is no way bar the intervention of Nedra that I am getting out of this pool anytime soon." Falco said, his torso shivering, so he decided to dive back into the pool.

"I agree" yelled Galkyus emerging from the cold pool a bluish shade. He then proceeded to drink half a gallon of ale in succession and dive back into the hottest part of the first pool.

"Yes, well when you two finish pulling your self together; remember that you have work to do."

"Torin don't take this personally, but go away" Falco demanded.

"Okay, but is this all really necessary?"

"I'll think you'll find it is" Galkyus answered

"It is a matter of necessity" Falco added

Latter that evening Torin sat in his living room by the fire reading a book of Arendish poetry, when there was a knock on his door. Sighing, he put down the book and went over to his door, and opened it. Falco and Galkyus, along with another man, were on his doorstep, still looking rather pale but at least they were mobile, a big improvement from this morning.

"Don't suppose you would consider letting us in" Galkyus said impatiently.

"Oh, by all means" Torin replied extravagantly, bowing mocking to his guests.

"So glad you could oblige" Galkyus replied dryly, as he entered, Falco not far behind with his companion, chuckling to himself. Once they were all seated by the fire, Torin fetched a bottle of wine from a rack on the wall and some glasses. He went to pour when simultaneously Galkyus and Falco held up their hands.

"Are you sure? It's a good year."

"Quite sure" Falco replied

"Emphatically" Galkyus added.

Torin put two glasses back on the shelf and poured himself and the stranger a glass, then re-seated himself next to his book.

"Surely you don't read that rubbish" Galkyus asked disbelievingly

"Oh yes he does, and probably a lot worse too. I once caught him with an Alorn romance. Have you ever read Alorn fiction? Utterly tactless, lacking all subtleties a real work requires." Falco explained.

"I imagine you came here with a purpose other than to critique my literary tastes?" Torin said coolly.

"Calm down, don't get excited. We spoke to Mortin, and he was most sympathetic. He has agreed to dispatch the second and third divisions in addition to the first." Falco said

"Well that's more than we could have hoped for." Torin said, toasting his guests, and taking a drink.

"Are you familiar with Captain Horus, Torin?" Galkyus asked

"No, but I get the feeling that I am about to be"

Falco and Galkyus's unknown companion stretched out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, I am Horus, Captain of the second division." Torin took his hand and shook it.

"I am curious" Horus continued "as to how a Sargent, such as yourself, is mixed up in such complicated affairs. I would never allow such a low ranking officer to participate in such a meeting."

"Torin is my second, Horus, and privy to all matters concerning the third division. If you have a problem with his presence lets get it over with sooner rather than latter." Falco replied.

"You would send him away at my request?"

"No, but if I'm going to have to tell you that he stays and to deal with it, I would rather do it now than during an emergency."

"I see. Well under such circumstances, how can I refuse this man's attendance? I will bow to your discretion, Falco, and I hope that he is everything you hold him to be."

"Excellent. Now that that is sorted, we can get down to business. I propose that we march on the bandit's main camp and simply slaughter the inhabitants, taking their leader alive for public execution. Any disagreements?" Galkyus asked.

"Not I" replied Horus.

"How do we know where the bandit's camp is? Maragor isn't exactly small and we could walk around there for months before we locate it."

"My scouts have located it already. It is but a weeks march from the Tolnedran - Marag border."

"Okay fine plan. We can get maps and plot a march tomorrow, during office hours. Mortin doesn't expect them until then; he postponed the original dead line. In the mean time, I believe you mentioned that wine was a good year" Falco said, the fire reflecting in his eyes.

Torin laughed openly, and rose to get another glass, looked back at Galkyus, then took two.


End file.
